With the pet door installed, Singer could go out or come inside as often as he wished. Bill had rigged the porch door so that the cat could push the door open to go out in the yard. He also mounted a drawer handle on the lower part of the door so that Singer could pull the door open to get back in. The cat learned very quickly to open the door wide enough to get his tail out of the way before the door shut.
Singer also was learning to avoid all of the pitfalls that could befall an outdoor cat. He knew to avoid the cars that rarely came down the road, and the cat was aware of which homes had unfriendly dogs. With each of Singer’s journeys, his territory would gradually increase. Eventually, the cat was traveling up to half a mile from Bill’s property.
Bill knew that Singer was wandering. He had gotten a call from a young woman who lived half a mile from Bill’s house. The young woman and her recently acquired husband had been startled in the middle of the night by the cat. Singer had somehow entered the house through a French door and interrupted the couple’s honeymoon. Bill had to laugh when the woman said that the cat walked into their bedroom and started singing. The call was not a complaint; she just wanted to inform Bill that the cat’s travels were widespread.
Bill’s neighbors knew all about Singer and the special talent the cat possessed. Everyone watched out for Singer and tolerated the occasional singing, along with the intrusions into their abodes; in fact, many looked forward to the visits.
Singer’s yowling never lasted very long, usually just a couple of short bursts lasting only a few seconds. They were long enough, it would seem, to make every other cat and dog within earshot imitate the sound. The singing was most prevalent on nights when there was a full moon. People variously described the sound as that of a violin, organ, harmonica, or accordion. One witness likened the sound to that of a whistling teapot.
Singer’s prowling also included the woods that bordered the back of Bill’s property. Tall pines, along with smaller dogwood and redbud trees, dominated the landscape. Where the sun could shine through the trees, wild honeysuckle covered the ground. In the darker areas, mountain laurel prospered, along with jade-colored ferns that grew beside the deer trails and rabbit paths.
Rainbow Creek formed the back border of Bill’s proper-ty. The creek ran about twenty yards into the woods, and though the stream was rather small, the water maintained the same height year round. Heavy rains would sometimes push the water to the edges of the banks, but Bill’s property sloped downhill from the house, so flooding was never a concern. During the summer months Bill would occasionally notice that Singer’s legs were wet. He surmised that the cat was wading in the creek, either to cool off or to ford the stream.
It wasn’t until Bill became alarmed about Singer’s poor appetite that the true reason was revealed. At times the cat ate very little. Bill would try different types of cat food, but the diminished appetite would sometimes last for days. The cat never displayed any symptoms of sickness or weight loss; on the contrary, Singer was beginning to look a little chubby. One day his neighbor Quincey told him he had noticed Singer up on Rainbow Creek with a rainbow trout in his mouth.
“I sure hope that cat isn’t eating dead fish,” Bill said with concern.
“No, it was alive!” Quincey exclaimed. “The fish was flopping around in the cat’s mouth.”
“That cat is full of surprises,” Bill said, shaking his head.
Evidently Singer would wait patiently, sitting on top of a rock or some other perch, until a trout would swim by close enough for the cat to pounce. This did not surprise Bill. Singer loved fishy cat food, but he restricted the cat’s diet to mostly chicken or turkey cat food, especially after Bert warned him not to feed the cat too much fish. The fishy cat food was doled out once or twice a month, or when Singer could beg a few morsels from Bill’s occasional fish and chips dinner. But on the first day of November, which was the anniversary of the day Singer was rescued, Bill treated the cat to a can of tuna.
Bill reflected on his first year with Singer. The loss of Lucky was a sad beginning, but there was also the news of his granddaughter, not to mention the lottery winnings. But there was no doubt that the privilege to witness Singer’s amazing talents was the high point of the first year.
The cat was changing Bill’s life, along with those of others. Bill was no longer the social recluse he used to be. For the first time since his wife’s death, Bill actually enjoyed being with people, and in return people enjoyed being with him.